Willow
by alpha aquarii
Summary: Another day after school, another meeting with the willow tree. He's really nothing but her pawn, after all. Oneshot JuniorxMandy.


Disclaimer: Still not owning…

This is short. And weird. And I don't know why I wrote it. I wanted to write something less than ten pages long for a change. Wrote it on a whim over two hours yesterday. I was gonna put it up yesterday too, but was 'experiencing heavier traffic than expected' or something. I guess I wanted to write another oneshot with this pairing besides the one I released on my birthday. This follows a really weird experimental format through the paragraphs, I'm not sure if it worked or not.

Happy Groundhog Day, everyone! I love this holiday!

_Willow_

"Mandy. Wait."

She pivots on her heel leisurely back towards Endsville Elementary at hearing the voice. Billy bounds ahead with Irwin now, making her one of the last leaving the building after the bell rings. A lone figure is striding towards her. The summer sun waves its rays behind him, making the front of his body appear shadowed and eclipsed. She shades her eyes and discreetly flicks away a bead of sweat from the side of her face.

"What do you want?"

He hunches his back against the heat and catches up to her. She's giving him a sinister look as she always does, but he's come to interpret her expressions better now. He points to the shade of a lonely willow tree and trudges towards it. Silently, she follows, scowling because she does not approve, but figures he's really only demeaning himself by their frequent forays to the tree. He's really just another one of her pawns whom she knows she dominates over.

"The same thing I want every day."

She slips in front of him and lets her backpack drop to the ground. She leans against the bark of the willow tree, waiting. Slim, slender leaves dance across her face and cast summery shadows, reminiscent of last time, and the hundred times before that. Their classmates race ahead, voices becoming lost and blending into the humid air. The trunk of the tree presses against her back, harsh and familiar, a bittersweet annoyance. Her paper-thin school uniform does nothing for her, the pleated skirt parting as he inserts a foot between her legs.

"I know. You peons are far too weak and predictable with your emotions."

He ignores this and clumsily goes in for the kill, glasses bumping against her face as their lips clash together. Somewhere in her body, an earthquake is happening. She shudders as his pasty forehead touches her cool one. A transfer of sweat and saliva, but not of feelings. She is too good for feelings. His backpack falls to the ground as he removes a hand from her waist momentarily. The hastily-sewn head of a teddy bear peeks out of the bag as he pulls away for breath and a few whispered words.

"As long as I have you, I don't care."

She detests this statement of open mortality, weakness, though Junior is only half human. He presses their lips together again, restlessly rubbing his thinly-clothed leg against her bare ones. She frowns against the kiss and brushes willow leaves out of her eyes. Unlike him, she cares nothing for sweaty embraces. He prods her lips with his tongue greedily and she opens her mouth, but discovers her teeth are clenched. A warm breeze interjects and a few frail twigs of the tree snap off and fall to the ground. For a moment she is reminded of autumn, and decides she's had enough now. She slaps away his face without a trace of elegance.

"I'm done for now, Junior. Go home."

He touches his face where she hit him and wordlessly picks up his backpack again. She stares him down and for a time, he is dazzled by the photo before him. Her arms are crossed and she scowls at him, white school top and skirt wrinkled. Yet she leans against the willow tree, which plays with the wind and waves fragile arms goodbye at him, and the high afternoon sun dots her in alternating patterns of light and shadow. The blue sky presses down on her, the stale wind whips her uniform around and shows how it is messed up, signs of him, of her, dare he say—of them?

"Fine. Goodbye."

She doesn't wait to see him leave, she knows he is gone by the time she reaches for her bookbag as well. And when she turns around, yes, he is no longer there, teleporting back to home in the earth's core. An impish but deep giggle is arising from her backpack, and she, frowning, unzips the back pocket and turns the bag upside down. White bones tumble out like a waterfall, an ivory skull last. It stops laughing the moment she glares at it, and instead begins to tremble in fear.

"You didn't see a thing, Grim."

**End**


End file.
